Grade Inflation and My Rating Scale

I've noticed that I'm posting a lot of 90+ point wines lately. However you decide to set up your semi-arbitrary 100 point system, usually 90 (but not 89 or 91, of course) is a magic number that divides very good from excellent. Have I been engaging in rampant grade inflation?

Maybe, but probably not. I tend to post only wines that I really enjoyed on this blog. There just isn't much point in bashing a wine I didn't enjoy. It's much more constructive to give an accurate stylistic description of a wine that maybe will get someone to try something new or different. There are so many bad wines to hate upon that it's not worth any one's time, unless he or she is a paid critic, to create an encyclopedic list of plonk. The ratio of good to bad wines is small, and there's greater value in pointing out the few good ones than steering people away from a few bad wine.

Furthermore, the wines I drink are self-selected. I tend to know something about what I buy. I pretty much know that a $15 Australian Shiraz will be pretty deplorable and borderline undrinkable based on my own likes and dislikes. That's not to say I don't accidentally pick out wines I hate. But for the most part I tend to match my selections to my tastes on a macro level, and to my meal or mood on a micro level. If I was being given a random selection of wines to review, I'd have many more negative comments to make.

Finally, my overall rating are subjectively based on the sort of "matrix" I've shown to the right. In terms of the bouquet, I tend to look for a combination of fruit, floral, earthy, vegetal, spicy and funky aromas that add dimensions of complexity to the wine. I'm not put off by barnyardy Brett aromas, though if that's all I can smell the wine is essentially one dimensional. Vanilla from oak is also nice in small quantities, though again that should not be the dominant aroma. Rotten or sulfide based aromas are a definite flaw in my book. The smell of alcohol or (vinegar-like) volatile acidity is also a big demerit.

As far as how the wine tastes, I'm looking for wines that have a good burst of flavor on the attack, sustain well on the mid-palate, then finish with a pleasant, lengthy aftertaste. Excessive oak or alcohol flavors are flaws and can be deal breakers if too far out of balance. Bitterness or tartness, especially on the finish, is not desirable. Wines that taste sweet also are not to my taste, though certain styles are supposed to be sweet. I'm particularly interested in the balance of acidity and tannins. Wines with "good" acidity are a bit mouth watering without tasting really sour. I appreciate a wide range of tannins from nearly imperceptible to mouth-coating, but the key is that the tannins should not be too astringent or bitter. Quality, not quantity, is the key. Concentration of flavor is also important in that I do not like wines that taste watery. But extreme concentration is not desirable if it comes at the expense of elegance, particularly on the finish.

The third corner of the triangle is entirely subjective. Here I'm looking for a wine that has some individuality. Creamy oak, for example, rarely tastes truly bad. But oak is a flavor that is rather ubiquitous. Extremely fruity wines are delicious, but again taste and smell pretty much alike. In some sense individuality is synonymous with complexity. But it also means to me that the wine has combinations of flavors, aromas and textures that are not found in your average wine. The wine isn't over-processed or over-manipulated, and the varietal or region in which it's grown are somehow reflected in the finished wine. So I'm looking for some idealized, Platonic expression of typicity, but with a unique imprint. This plays a huge role in the enjoyment of a wine for me; it tends to leads into conversation and thoughtful discussion about the wine.

To give a more concrete example of how this triangle factors into scores, here's a rough key.

0-50 = Not wine.

50-69 = Varying degrees of serious flaws ranging from undrinkable to highly off putting.

70-74 = Flawed, but drinkable.

75-79 = Drinkable, but extremely bland, confected or possessing a minor flaw/imbalance.

80-84 = Good, balanced all around wine, but lacking complexity/uniqueness. Also could be an "interesting" or really tasty wine with some moderate degree of imbalance. This could be a wine that really "lights up" one corner of the above triangle, yet doesn't do much on the other two vertices as well.

85-89 = Very good all around wine that may be a bit one-dimensional or maybe has a really good bouquet, but isn't quite that delicious or wine tastes great, but doesn't have wonderful aromatics. Wines in this range usually must show some typicity and/or individuality unless they are absolutely delicious. A "two corner of the triangle" wine would be something that typically falls in this range.

90-94 = The whole package. Great aromatics, delicious flavor, structured, balanced and showing a lot of character. Elegance is necessary here. Very hard for a wine without individuality to do this well unless it is just mind-blowingly delicious. Generally must be a wine that hits upon all three vertices of my tasting triangle.

95-99 = A rare wine that has everything going for it. Perfectly aged, complex, elegant, powerful and so on. Something that changes your world view. I've tasted nothing yet I'd rate here.

100 = Perfect wine, your dream wine. Impossible to achieve.

Worldwide Recession + Wine = ?

By now most people have caught on that economy is in an ever accelerating downward spiral. I've been lucky in that I've been relatively insulated from the mess. But disturbingly large numbers of folks are losing their livelihoods and homes. Perhaps this is a trite subject to approach in light of all the problems out there, but I'll take a stab at speculating about what the current economy means for those still with disposable income to spend on upscale booze.

The most noticeable change as a consumer is that you simply do not need to pay full price right now. Not everything is steeply discounted, but there should be no problem finding interesting wines if you aren't committed to a particular style, region or producer. Wine is one of the most "overpriced" commodities available in the sense that even the most premium of bottles rarely costs more than $20 to produce. Demand and the distribution chain end up at minimum doubling the price paid by the consumer relative to the actual cost of production.

The worrisome side, though, is that independent retailers and producers may not be able to absorb the lower price points for premium wine. By volume, there's little doubt that wine retailers do most of their business selling inexpensive wine. But the ultra-premium wines are hugely profitable because of their ridiculous mark-up. It may be the case that selling the insanely priced wines is allowing creative retailers and producers to offer the interesting, but less profitable wines that are pretty darn entertaining to drink. My greatest fear is that businesses that teeter on the edge of failure because they attempt to be more than profit centers will either fail or be consumed by larger businesses. Ultimately this could mean less choice for the consumer (and really this sort of thinking should apply to all retailers; Wal-Mart will survive this recession while many smaller businesses will struggle).

The big guys can and should adjust, however. Napa and Bordeaux have been, paraphrasing James Conaway's The Far Side of Eden, bottling their arrogance at exorbitant prices largely because of a price bubble akin to the housing bubble in California. This is of course not true of every producer, particularly those that have been established for some time, but when the average price for a Napa Cabernet Sauvignon is around $40, the economics are a little out of balance. Entrepreneurs flush with cash from a bull market have been flooding into prestigious wine regions, buying or planting vineyards to be run by the most respected vineyard managers, hiring famous winemakers who have the ear of influential critics, then selling exorbitantly expensive bottles under their own name. An interesting local example is Jonata, a new enterprise in Santa Ynez from the owners of a Napa "cult wine" that priced its inaugural vintage in the $100 range and received glowing reviews from certain important critics.

I do not often wish ill upon individuals, but these are the sorts of enterprises that I'd love to see fail spectacularly. The great wines of the world earned their reputation and prices after decades if not centuries of success. They have track records of positive results and have shown the capability to age well. It simply makes no sense that wines produced as an exercise in egotism by both proprietor and consumer should immediately be compared to the great wines of the world. The market has supported these sorts of wines thus far. But one can only hope that these gaudy emblems of conspicuous consumption will be culled significantly in the near future.

Even on a less-exclusive scale, a large number of wines are being produced in the style (but not necessarily quality) of the above ego driven wines. That means low yields of very sugary, super-ripe grapes and lots of new oak. In most of California where the growing season is typically long, warm and sunny, there really isn't much sense in trying to make your grapes ultra-ripe. You can get balanced fruit without extreme measures. All of these measures to "dress-up" the wine, in my opinion, make it worse yet also cost more. Smaller producers may actually end up making better wine when they have to be cost-conscious. If they stop over-managing their vineyards and buying costly new barrels so regularly, they'll likely be making wines with lower alcohol and less oak pollution.

Of course, wineries will likely turn to other measures, like oak planks or oak dust to retain the oak flavor at a lower cost. Or they'll over-crop vineyards in regions less suited for grape growing to get more cheap juice at the expense of quality. It's probably more of a pipe dream that a contracting economy will reign in excess without resulting in producers cutting corners in some unsavory manner. What's going to happen will happen. There will be some form of contraction taking place. I'm crossing my fingers that the fat will be cut. But I won't be surprised if ultimately the cuts are to the bone.

WN: Bedford Thompson 2000 Cabernet Franc

I've been meaning to visit the Bedford Thompson Winery for a while. Their tasting room is about a 40 minute drive away and they produce a curious mix of varietals including Chardonnay, Gewurztraminer, Pinot Gris, Mourvedre, Grenache, Syrah, Petite Sirah, and, my personal favorite, Cabernet Franc. Only in California will you find a single vineyard growing such a diverse group of grapes originating in not only Burgundy, the Rhone, and the Loire, but also Germany! But there's still more to be said about the non-conformist choices this winery has made. According to their website, their current releases all date back to the 2000, 2001 and 2002 vintages. Most wineries in the Santa Barbara area are around the 2006 vintage at this point.

Despite all the intrigue surrounding Bedford Thompson, I'll have to hold off on visiting for a bit. But I did get to taste a bottle of the Bedford Thompson 2000 Cabernet Franc this weekend. This was not your grandma's Cab Franc. This was the sort of Cab Franc that could only come from a unique location in California. If I would have guessed the varietal in a blind tasting, I surely would have pegged this wine as a Syrah. As much cognitive dissonance as this generated, I nonetheless thoroughly enjoyed this wine. I think to be fair the 2000 Cab Franc must be described not as a varietal wine, but as a product of its terroir.

The bouquet opened up with a salvo of blueberry jam. Given the varietal and the age of the wine, this was utterly surprising. Blueberries are just about the last fruit I typically associate with Cab Franc. And while I don't have extensive experience with older wines, jammy fruit is not what I've found in the past. What elevated this wine from pure fruit-bomb to something interesting was the secondary aromas. There was a little meatiness and some espresso. There was also a dried underbrush aroma, like the kind of mountain sage you'd find nestled amongst the chaparral in Santa Barbara. The typical leafy herbaciousness was not present, but in its place were aromas that I could easily associate with a vineyard in the foothills of a mountain range. Also not present was alcohol on the nose. Typically jammy fruit begets alcohol, but here there was just concentrated fruit.

The attack is lush and filled with still more blueberries. But, surprisingly, the acidity and tannins make their presence known. This is not simply a soft, flat, fat fruit wine. The tannins are soft and well-balanced, while there's a great mouth-watering yet creamy finish sustained by the acidity. The alcohol, which was listed at under 14%, was not at all noticeable despite the intense concentration of the fruit. On the pure deliciousness scale, this wine was way up there. Although 8 years past vintage is a significant period of time, the wine had no bricking along its meniscus in the glass and seemed as if it still had quite a bit of life in it. I think if I had tasted this wine in its youth, it probably would have been good, but limited in depth due to the jammyness of the fruit. The winemaker deserves huge kudos for releasing this wine when it had settled into a lively yet balanced profile.

My suspicion is that these grapes are grown in a special vineyard. The varietal is not expressed so much as the location. There seems to have been a Faustian deal made to achieve such intensity of fruit without having high alcohol and deficient acidity at the same time. There's something interesting, perhaps very special, going on with Bedford Thompson and my curiosity is piqued. Could it be that these folks know they have intense wines with the structure to age and are releasing their wines after 7 to 8 years just to prove a point?

Score: 89-92
Price: $22 from Vinhus in Solvang

WN: Frederic Mabileau 2006 Les Rouilleres

From the moment I poured the Frederic Mabileau 2006 Les Rouilleres into my decanter, I had a positive feeling this was going to be a delicious, fun wine: there was that unmistakable sweet, sweaty aroma of farm animals. No, a sheep hadn't pooped in the wine. This was wine with some serious in your face Brettanomyces funk. Definitely not a wine for everyone, especially if you like your wine as processed as Velveeta cheese, but the bouquet conjured up an image of picking ripe cherries in a country orchard with jasmine simultaneously in full bloom, some dry underbrush under foot, and a horse stable a few hundred meters in the distance.

But let me take a step back before I wax poetic further about why such a seemingly idiosyncratic wine is so very very right. Frederic Mabileau is a producer based in Saint-Nicolas-de-Bourgeil, a small appellation in the Loire Valley across the Loire River from Chinon and adjacent to Bourgueil to its the west. The Loire Valley is to Cabernet Franc what Burgundy is to Pinot Noir. If you want authentic Cab Franc, the Loire is the go-to option.

Of course, if you can't stand Brett, the Loire might not be your preferred destination. But the interesting quality I've found in several Loire Cab Francs is that the animale funk is entirely in the bouquet; the flavor of the wine remains unspoiled. Often times a funky nose is simply a precursor to similar shenanigans on your palate. But this was not the case with the '06 Rouilleres. As usual, the rustic nose gave way to a clean, cherry-driven attack with moderate acidity and just enough tannin to sustain the finish. This is an aromatic wine with floral qualities in the driver's seat, and livestock, herbs and ripe berries in the backseat that nonetheless has the body and even elegance to seduce.

And if that's not enough intrigue, there's also an utter lack of oak worth highlighting. A disturbing proportion of American red wines are simply abused with oak to the point that the vanillin leached from the barrel dominates every other aroma and flavor. Some folks get it right and treat oak like one would treat salt while cooking, as a seasoning to complement other flavors. Ideally, oak adds a bit to the aromatics while also adding some tannins for structure and to lengthen the finish. But far too many producers simply oak the crap out of everything in sight, then ask questions later. Well, Mabileau didn't mess around with this cuvee: it was aged in stainless steel and bottled only lightly filtered. What you get is the pure fruit in all of its glory with whatever Brett decides to tag along in the bottle for the cross Atlantic trip. This wine absolutely oozes character and craftsmanship, and is also a great value. Superb stuff that somehow manages to be both rustic and polished simultaneously.

Score: 90-92
Price: $14 from Winelibrary

WN: Alma Rosa 2006 Santa Barbara County Chardonnay

The Alma Rosa 2006 Santa Barbara County Chardonnay is the entry level Chardonnay of Richard Sanford's new venture following the breakdown of his partnership in his namesake Sanford Winery. I picked this out for my parents since they were visiting and I wanted to share a nice, but not overly expensive example of what California Chardonnay can be in the hands of a producer who is sensitive to his terroir and the expression of his fruit. Basically, this is Chardonnay for the Chard Oh No! crowd. Incidentally, this also turned out to be Wine Enthusiast's #4 wine of 2008, garnering a stratospheric rating of 94 points.

As much as I love Alma Rosa, I didn't enjoy this wine enough to agree with Wine Spectator's appraisal. That said, this was an excellent Chardonnay produced in a style nearly opposite that of the ultra-creamy, buttery, smoke and vanilla style. It's a very rich, round fruit forward style, but not an overdone wine that bears little resemblance to the fruit from which it was born. The ABV is a moderate (for California) 14.1% and doesn't show through at all. The bouquet had just a hint of smoke and vanilla in the background behind layers of tropical fruit. Think pineapple with a little mandarin orange. The acidity (which was preserved by foregoing malolactic fermentation) was nonetheless firm and served as a nice counterbalance to the opulence of the fruit. The only quality keeping me from adoring this wine was a little awkward bitter tang on the finish.

The bottle actually lasted to a second day. Sadly, the wonderfully hedonistic attack had mellowed significantly to a more mineral quality and the bitterness on the finish was more pronounced. However, the bouquet had evolved to reveal an intense honeysuckle aroma almost reminiscent of a Viognier. I preferred the day one profile, but there was enough stuffing there to allow some interesting evolution once open. All said, I think I prefer the 2007 vintage, which I tasted recently at the winery. The '07 has a pH of 3.12, significantly lower than the 3.44 pH the '06 vintage sports, and I think I liked the more muscular mineral quality of the current vintage. Regardless of vintage, this is definitely one I'd recommend, especially since it'll set you back less than an Andrew Jackson.

Note: Yes, the bottle has a screw cap, or more correctly, a Stelvin closure. Screw caps have a bad reputation, but don't taint wine with TCA like cork, are better for the environment, and seal more effectively than other synthetic closures. So get over it; you'll be seeing a lot more premium wine with a screw cap in the near future.

Score: 86-89
Price: $17.50 from Vinhus in Solvang